Catastrophic
by killer cereal
Summary: "It must be tough. What, with being an emotional retard and all." "It is, it's very draining." Santana has a total meltdown and begins to face up to the truth, with a little help. Set in S2 when Brittany is dating Artie. Lots of swearing.
1. Chapter 1

_**I wanted this to be about Santana, which it is, but Puck went and elbowed his way in with his pretty guns. Warning: There's a lot of swearing.**_

* * *

**Catastrophic**

Puck pulled out his buzzing phone from his pocket and scrunched his nose up. What was she doing ringing him? He stuck a finger in his ear trying to hear over the all singing, all dancing, dining service frolicking on the TV screen in front of him.

"Puck."

"Yo."

"I need... are you watching 'Beauty and the Beast'?"

"Hell no! My sister is. What do you want Fabray?" He demanded, sounding snappier than he intended. Why wasn't she calling Goldilocks von Bieber-lips?

"Whatever. You need to get over here, now." The urgency was clear in her tone of voice and without a second thought he jumped up and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair.

"I'm coming."

* * *

Puck's truck screeched to halt outside the Fabray residence. He jumped out and ran up the path pausing as he caught sight of a glass bottle flying through the air and landing in the neighbours yard. He changed course and made his way around the back.

Quinn was sat on the ground, her back resting against the back wall of her house, sheer relief was visible all over her face as she realised he had been as good as his word and come over. Sitting next to her, or to be more accurate, slumped next to her was a very, very drunk Santana busy necking a bottle of vodka.

"Thank God," Quinn gasped, dragging him down to sit beside her.

"What the hell?" He asked.

"I found her outside the liquor store trying to get a tramp to buy her more booze."

"She's bleeding," he said referring to Santana's scraped knuckles.

"Yeah, she tried to fight my car."

"The what? What's she doing?"

"Trying to drown herself with alcohol. She got violent when I tried to take away the bottle."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!" Santana screamed, ignoring the two whispering beside her. A beer bottle smashed against the garage wall across the lawn and the amber liquid ran down the brick.

'Britt,' Quinn mouthed the word to him ignoring the flying bottle as though she were used to the action by now. Puck looked worriedly from Santana to Quinn, his eyes asking 'What do we do?' She shrugged and shook her head not knowing the answer, so they just sat there as their friend glared off into space, her mind stuck on only one thought.

"Where's your Mom?" asked Puck, wondering why Mrs Fabray hadn't called the cops already. It was a well known fact that Judy Fabray was not Santana's number one fan.

"D.A.R. meeting. She wont be back 'til late."

Puck and Quinn sat in a strange companionable silence as Santana tried to out-stare the lawn. It was the first time they had spent any time together since Beth had been born and the first time they had had anything resembling a normal conversation despite the evenings subject matter. Eventually Puck pushed himself up from the ground next to Quinn and sat down the other side of Santana. Now she was stuck in between them where they could keep a better eye on her.

"Listen San." He stopped as she took another deep swig of vodka finishing the bottle and dropping it onto a pile of beer bottles at her feet. He couldn't think of anything to say. Anything that would help. "We're your oldest friends, we've known each other forever."

He struggled for more. Quinn cast him a nervous glance.

"Listen," he leaned in closer to Santana careful not to touch her as there was no telling what she might do if she was provoked. "You were there for me, you had my back when everything happened with Beth," he added the next two words with a whisper, "And Quinn. You're the best friend I've got and... I've got your back too. No matter what."

Santana's head lifted. They paid closer attention, hoping he had got through.

"I need you to help me hide the body," she slurred the words.

"No," snapped Quinn. Then softer, soothingly. "I don't think it would go down very well with Britt if you murdered Artie."

"Who the fuck said anything about Artie?" screamed Santana.

"No one. No one said anything. Shhh, it's OK. It's OK."

Santana reached into her jacket and from a well hidden pocket pulled out a bottle of tequila. "Fuck the fuck off the lot of you." She took a deep swig of tequila her eyes screwed shut as the burning liquor poured down her throat. She was going to drink herself into oblivion or die trying. "It's not so bad if he's already crippled. I'd be doing him a favour," she muttered to herself.

'Where's Britt?' Mouthed Puck across the top of Santana's head to Quinn.

'Date,' replied Quinn. A light bulb went on in Puck's head and he gave Quinn a questioning look. She gently nodded in silent reply. The terrible twosome weren't known for doing proper dates. This one was different.

'Is this what I think it is?' he asked her silently.

Quinn nodded.

Shit, thought Puck. 'This is it. This is happening now?'

She shrugged. Santana wasn't there yet but tonight could be the night.

Santana glared hatefully at her feet. If she drank enough alcohol then maybe it would fuel laser beams to shoot out of her eyes and set fire to her sneakers. Laser beams, yeah, cool. Brittany would like that visual. She took another mouthful of the disgusting drink. Fucking Artie. Of all people. It's like she wasn't even trying to piss her off. Which made it worse. She hugged the bottle in her arms.

What was happening to her, she wondered to herself. It was like everything inside was crumbling down. All the barriers she had spent years unconsciously and in some cases, knowingly building, all safe guards had been shattered within seconds. She was crumpling inwards. The whole world was tipping upside down and she felt like she was falling. Small, tiny, insignificant Santana Lopez and the one thing which could anchor her, the one thing...

This could not be happening. She had defences, walls, protocols, plans to deflect and hide any feelings. Something had just flown over the top without any interference, ignoring every fail-safe, get out of jail free card and lie she had ever spouted and hit the target. She was fucking falling. Fuck.

"San," said Quinn quietly. "You can talk to us. Or just out loud if you want. We could listen. Or not."

"No," growled Santana. It was hurting a hell of a lot too much to think about Brittany so Santana tried to distract herself with the first thing to come to hand. "Pucks in love with you, Quinn."

"What!" Puck practically screamed. "I am not! Shut the fuck up Lopez." His chest heaved with deep breath. The fuck was she doing?

"Since 7th grade."

"I am gonna kick your ass if you don't shut up right now!"

"It's OK," said Quinn quietly.

"It's not fucking OK and it's not true so just shut up," spluttered Puck. "And anyway, you're in love with Brittany and have been since fucking kindergarten so shut up and admit it."

"Fuck. You." muttered Santana.

"And everyone..." he continued.

"Puck," warned Quinn, not wanting him to make things any worse than they already were. But he was flustered over his great big fucking secret being outed and continued.

"... fucking knows it."

Santana remained silent. They all leaned back against the wall, Puck trying to steady his heartbeat and Quinn feeling a wave of melancholy wash over her at how she had treated Puck since the summer. The sound of a car puling into the Fabray driveway interrupted the awkward silence. Awkward for two of them anyway, Santana was past giving a shit at this point.

"Crap my Mom's back, I'll go head her off," said Quinn, jumping up. She had to go and lie about why Puck's truck was parked out the front and why a drunken Cheerio was sprawled on the back lawn shouting obscenities across the neighbourhood.

Puck held his head in his hands for a minute as he tried to figure out this mess of an evening. His head snapped up with a brilliant idea.

"What if we teamed up and sang in Glee about it?"

"Do I look like like Rachel freakin' short-ass Berry? Do I?" demanded Santana. "I am not singing about my fucking feelings and all that bullshit!" she yelled at the top of her voice. "You should have stuck with Berry if you wanted to sing about your fluffy feelings, oh no wait you can't because you're in love with Quinn."

"OK, OK," said Puck alarmed at the reaction he had elicited. "It was just a suggestion. I thought we could get our rock on. I was thinking "Rainbow, Since You've Been Gone'. C'mon, we've humiliated ourselves tonight why not go all the way and do it front of glee?"

Santana turned violent in a heartbeat at his persistence and started punching Puck in the head, shoulder and arm, anywhere she could reach him.

"I don't want your fucking help I want you to fuck off and leave me alone," she screeched at him.

"Quinn, Quinn!" shouted Puck, trying to deflect the flailing arms attacking him.

"What is it?" Asked Quinn appearing around the corner slightly out of breath from running towards the screams.

Santana was now slumped against the wall with tears coursing down her cheeks as she tried not to let anyone see she was crying and failing miserably. Quinn sat down next to the brunette and put her arm around her friend's shoulder, not saying anything just holding her as her body racked with sobs.

"Why hasn't your Mom come out and started yelling at us?" asked Puck curiously.

"She took some pills, she wont wake up 'til midday tomorrow."

"She asked me... She asked me..." Santana spoke from where her head was resting on Quinn's shoulder and then hiccuped. The other two waited for her to finish the sentence. Asked her to what?

"I said no," she whispered, not elaborating on what the original question was.

"For serious?" said Puck in disbelief. "The girl worships the ground you walk on, follows you around like a puppy dog. Snap your fingers and she'll come running back."

Quinn leaned over and slapped him, Santana escaping from the hug as she did so.

"What I meant to say then was," he hastily backtracked. "You should apologise and tell her the truth."

Another beer bottle hit the garage.

"So what your saying is," said Quinn with a frown. "This is your fault. You blew it and now you've hurt yourself, and Britt's... moved on."

Santana's sigh could have blown down a house. "Yeah." She took another swig of tequila. "I fucking hate tequila it tastes like shit."

"Well stop drinking it then," snapped Quinn.

"Fuck off."

"Tell her how you feel."

"I don't feel anything!" shouted Santana.

"Liar!" Quinn shouted back.

"You're right," said Santana calmly, too calmly. "I feel, I feel sick... of hearing all this bullshit. Why did you have to come along and stick your god damn bossy, pointy fucking nose in?"

"You are a fucking liar," hissed Quinn. The message got a hit through the alcohol because it was a highly rare occurrence for Quinn Fabray to swear. Puck sat up straighter, this might get even more interesting. "You can lie to me and Puck and Brit and everyone else in the whole fucking universe, but do yourself a favour because I certainly wont be doing one for you ever again. Don't lie to yourself."

There was silence for a couple of heartbeats and then.

"She knows," whispered Santana. "She knows I know. And she knows I know she knows."

"This is getting drunker by the second," sighed Puck.

"She makes my stomach do backflips," Santana admitted in a small voice.

Quinn rubbed her eyes with frustration. This would be so frickin' adorable if it wasn't so pathetic.

"S?"

All three heads whipped around to see Brittany standing there at the corner of the house, looking worriedly at Santana.

"The fuck?" asked Puck. Did the girl have magic powers, he'd always suspected there was more to Brittany than met the eye.

"I texted her," admitted Quinn, as the other two glared at her. "What, seriously? She's like the only one who can help."

"San, what's the matter?" Brittany asked softly.

Santana drew her knees up to her chest and lay her head on her arms fiercely ignoring her and wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole this very instant. "Go away," Santana was muttering into her knees. "Go away, go away, go away, go away."

Quinn moved from her place next to Santana and went to sit next to Puck. Brittany ignored her plea and sat down in the vacated place her body flush against Santana's. Santana could feel the warmth radiating along her right side. Honestly the girl had no sense of personal space and was totally inappropriate with her touchy feely-ness. But Santana wasn't going to tell her that.

Quinn wrapped her arm around Puck's as they waited tensely, on edge for Santana to do something stupid but she just kept her head on her knees and didn't look at anyone. Brittany rubbed comforting circles on her back as Santana hiccuped occasionally.

"What's happened here?" asked Brittany.

Puck nudged Santana who ignored him. "You look nice, Britt," he said. "Been on a date somewhere nice?" He asked deliberately baiting Santana.

"Breadstix," she said suspiciously. She looked from the back of Santana's head to Puck and then Quinn who were lost for words. Puck sighed.

"It must be tough," he spoke to the back of Santana's head. "What, with being an emotional retard and all."

"It is," came the muffled reply. "It's very draining."

"S, tomorrow, when you are sober, we are doing a duet so awesome Glee won't know what hit it. Come to think of it, It'll probably end up being our winning number at Nationals. Tomorrow Britt, all will be revealed."

As the sun rose a few hours later it found Santana asleep, her head on Brittany's shoulder and her arms wrapped around her waist. Brittany's head rested on top of Santana's. Quinn and Puck were also huddled in a similar position with each other.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to those who took time to review. Feedback is always appreciated.

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Chapter 2

Santana wandered through the halls of McKinley High in a daze. Her alarm had woken her at 6:30 as usual. The only reason she had managed to wake up was because she was pretty sure she was still drunk. She didn't remember the walls of the school having ever wobbled in the freaky way they were doing now, like they were swaying. She didn't know how she had got back to her bed, the last thing she remembered was throwing stuff over the Fabray's back wall at an angry neighbour as Quinn tried to hold her back from climbing over and telling the pervert where exactly he could shove his collection of empty beer bottles. It all got a little blurry after that. Little did she know that earlier that morning Puck had given her and Brittany a lift to her house and Britt had put her to bed then gone back to her own house.

She frowned, she could have sworn Artie had just given her a funny look. If she had all of her wits about her she would have noticed more closely it had more closely resembled a stinking glare that he directed at her. And then she would have run him into the main road and tipped his chair over. But, lucky for him she was not feeling that energetic today. Trying to ignore the feeling of nausea creeping up on her she walked very carefully in the general direction of her locker.

Quinn and Brittany stood by Quinn's locker as she grabbed a handful of books before class.

"Why don't you like Puck?" asked Quinn, who had noticed the way Brittany had just watched Puck walk past trying his best to ignore them both.

"I do, he's nice to me."

"So, why don't you like him?"

"He uses Santana cos he cant have you," sighed Brittany. Quinn stared at her. "Why don't you like him?" Brittany asked innocently.

"I... I... I do," she stammered. "He's nice to me, too."

"You don't act like you like him."

"He's kind of confusing. He's such a jerk but then he can turn around and be the complete opposite." Then she asked as delicately as possible. "Do you think Santana uses him because she thinks she can't have you?"

"Well, duh," said Brittany softly, staring at her feet and scuffing her white Cheerio issue sneakers on the floor. "Artie's mad at me."

Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"I think it's cos I ran out on our date when you texted me and I didn't want to tell him where I was going. Now he's not talking to me."

Quinn coughed, Santana owed her one for this. "Maybe you should dump him."

"I'm not sure," Brittany frowned. "He's nice and funny but... I dunno."

"Do you love him?"

"What?"

"If there was a zombie apocalypse and brain eaters roaming the school picking off the students. Where would you be?"

Anyone else would have been totally confused but Brittany gave the question careful consideration. "On the roof of the gym with Santana, firing the confetti canons stuffed with flaming gym equipment."

Quinn smirked into her locker, too freakin' adorable. She snapped the door shut.

"You know what Britt? Let's hang out today, just you and me and those two idiots can... sort out whatever it is they're trying to sort out and when they're ready, we'll be ready."

Brittany smiled. "That sounded like one of Puck's questions, the zombie thing."

"Let's just say I spent a lot of time in an enclosed space with him last year. The point is B. End of the world, who would you want to be with?"

They linked arms and marched down the hallway, ponytails bouncing.

* * *

Santana sighed as she saw who was waiting for her at her locker with that damn smirk on his face.

"Top of the morning to ya, Lopez."

"Fuck off."

"You look like shit."

"Thanks, appreciate it. Any idea why is Artie giving me evils? Did I slash the wheels on his pushchair or something?"

"Britt gave him the heave ho. Ran out on him in the middle of a date."

"She did?" Asked Santana, her face etched with confusion.

"Yeah. Don't you remember last night?"

"My brain's not functioning properly. I cant see past a 3 foot radius and I think I'm sweating alcohol."

"Well shake it off because we've got our duet to get ready."

"Qué?"

"You promised."

"I don't remember that!"

"You swore you would back me up and we'd do this together. Just fucking do it and get it over with."

"I did? I don't remember any of this. I'm gonna have to check that with Q."

"NO! She wasn't there, she uh, she went to distract her Mom when we made the pact."

"We made a pact?"

"Yeah."

"For sure?"

"Totally, babe. Would I lie to you?"

Santana looked unsure, had she been functioning at her usual shrewd level of intelligence she would have smelled a rat instantly.

"Anyway, I was thinking we should do a mash-up," he continued.

Santana ignored his babbling about a duet and asked. "Did I do anything stupid last night?"

"Hell no," he smirked at her. "Not at all. Just declared your undying love for tall blonde dancer to everyone but the lady in question."

Santana's jaw dropped open in shock. She did what!

"That's what the song is for," explained Puck. "To rectify that mistake. And I'm gonna make sure Quinn knows I'm not going to give up on her just because she's got that bimbo on her arm."

Santana's mouth was wide open as panic began to seep through her alcohol fogged consciousness. "WHAT?" she shrieked.

Heads pulled out of lockers where most of the student body was before first class. Two blonde heads looked at her with interest from the other end of the hallway.

"I'm surprised she's not in a coma after last night," mused Quinn. She cast a look to Britt who was chewing her bottom lip indicating she was either troubled or thinking hard about something, or someone.

Santana turned on Puck. "I am hungover, I'm starting to get worried that I cant see out of my left eye properly, my tongue has the texture and flavour of a cats litter tray and I feel as though I could throw up all over you at any second." Puck took a step backward as she continued her rant.

"What the fuck is wrong with you that you think singing will cure all your problems? You've been spending too much time with Berry."

"S, I just need your help to mash the songs. It's easier than saying shit out loud."

"Do I look like a fucking sap who sings to make everything better? And when the fuck have I ever done anything the easy way?"

Puck gave her the pathetic puppy dog eyes pleading for her help but they couldn't get through the alcoholic haze and mind numbing fog of panic rising within Santana.

"I think you ought to stay the fuck away from me today for your own good," growled Santana, slamming her locker shut and storming off down the hall shoving away anyone who came within her designated personal space.

So began the day of terror.

* * *

That afternoon at Glee Club.

Quinn and Brittany sat in the front row, they had been the first to arrive for Glee club having spent the day together trying not to wonder where Santana was and if she was okay. Minutes later, Artie, Tina, Mike, Rachel, Kurt and Mercedes entered the room covered head to foot in blue slushy. Quinn gasped in shock, six of them slushied at once was unheard of.

"What happened?"

"Santana," snapped Rachel.

"She's finally gone all the way over to the dark side," said Kurt unhappily, trying not to shudder as ice slid down his back.

"Girl has lost the plot. It's like she's at war with the entire school out there," sighed Mercedes. "She has some serious issues."

Brittany said nothing looking apprehensively at the door as Finn and Sam came in with the same problem. When everyone, minus Santana, was assembled it became apparent that the only people not affected were Brittany, Puck and Quinn. Arguably the three people the grumpy Latina cared about.

"Brittany," pleaded Rachel. "Can you do something about all this?"

"I don't know, she's not speaking to me," said Brittany quietly.

Mr Shuester came in interrupting, or saving Brittany depending on which way you look at it. "What the, what happened to you guys?"

They all glowered at him. Wasn't it obvious?

They weren't talking so he tried to continue with what he had intended to start off with before rehearsal could begin, a bit of news.

"Santana wont be with us today, she's been sent home."

Rachel gasped, "She's been suspended?"

"Uh no. She wasn't well, the nurse seemed to think she was coming down with the flu."

Puck snorted with laughter. "Yeah flu. Tequila flu."

"Wait," he asked puzzled at their reaction. "Why would you think she'd been suspended?"

"Oh no reason," snarked Kurt as he flicked slush to the floor.

"Are you saying Santana did this to you?" No one spoke, most busy mopping up slush off their clothes. Brittany had the good grace to look uncomfortable. "Look I think you guys should go and get cleaned up. Take a copy of the new sheet music as you leave and we'll start on it tomorrow."

Quinn squeezed Brittany's hand as the others walked out past them.

"You gotta sort it out, girl," said Mercedes.

"Please Brittany," asked Rachel. "She's out of control."

The final straw was when Artie rolled by and completely ignored her not making any effort to look at her. A sniff indicated Brittany was about to cry.

"Hey, that's enough," said Quinn, feeling that Brittany had taken enough of Santana's blame. "It's not Brittany's fault that Santana's a psycho." She put her arm around the blondes shoulders and hugged her as she tried not to cry into Quinn's shoulder.

The last one to leave, Puck paused in front of them, searching for something to say. All he could manage was staring at Quinn and flicking uncomfortable glances in Brittany's direction.

"I'll talk to her," he said, and then hurried away.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next day Quinn and Brittany were inseparable, looking out for each others respective stalkers as they went out on to the football field to practice some of the trickier moves of their new Cheerios routine. Quinn noticed that Brittany was distracted and even though this wasn't an unusual occurrence she looked over to where Brittany was staring. On the bleachers sat Puck and Santana, Santana with her head in her hands trying to ignore Puck who was gesticulated wildly with his hands to emphasise whatever he was saying to her.

"What's she doing?" asked Brittany, wistfully.

"B, who the hell knows. She's lost the plot."

"She'd better find it soon," murmured Brittany.

"I don't believe this, you're giving me nothing but grief. You had better be worth this Lopez," Puck said, poking Santana in the ribs. She swatted at him with the her hand letting him know she was listening despite the fact he had annoyingly latched on to her at the first opportunity that morning and hadn't left her alone since.

"I am in love with Quinn," announced Puck to the open air then frowned and hushed his tone a bit as he noticed the blonde cheerios watching them with interest. "And have been since seventh grade when she slapped me for trying to look down her top. There. So fuck you, Lopez." He couldn't bring himself to look at Quinn any more so instead he glared at Santana. "Your turn."

Santana sat back, folded her arms, raised an eyebrow and ignored him to his immense chagrin. He was going out on a limb for her and she was just fucking ignoring him. He tried one more time.

"The other night you shouted that out to Quinn on my behalf. Would you like me to do the same for you?" He waved an arm in Brittany's direction, who to Santana's horror, waved back.

She grabbed his arm and pulled it down under control and scowled at Puck. "Not unless you have a death wish, Puckerman."

"Then get up and sing with me."

"You cant force me to sing. If I don't want to do something I don't do it," she hissed at him.

"That's just it," he protested. "You do want to. You should have heard yourself the other night."

Quinn watched them intently. She was pretty impressed with Pucks efforts to help Santana. She had knowingly or otherwise put herself out there the other night and he was trying to help her help herself. Even if it was probably going to mean embarrassing them all along with her. She was wondering about this duet he had threatened which was hovering ominously over each Glee meeting.

"I don't need help. I don't need your help and there is nothing going on that I need help with in the first place."

"Ha! No really, tough shit. I know you too well, my friend. You want my help even if you can't say it. Plus, Quinn thinks I'm totally a hero helping you with your messed up love life and mental fuckage, so I'm not going anywhere."

She stared forlornly across the field to Brittany who gave her a small and yet sincere smile full of hope. Her heart skipped a beat as she returned the smile.

"Please help me," Puck asked sincerely. "Singing beats embarrassing yourself like I just did, believe me."

"Britt," Quinn turned back to her friend. "I've got an idea. C'mon." And dragged the other girl off the field for somewhere to rehearse away from prying eyes.

On the far side of the field Artie had been watching all four of them carefully.

* * *

For the rest of the day Santana had studiously avoided any contact with everyone she knew and was kept busy trying to ditch Puck who had an outrageously annoying tracking thing going on where he could find her anywhere in the school whenever he wanted. Her Glee acquaintances in turn, kept away from her not out of respect for her clear wish to be left alone but from considering her actions from the day before. Eventually, the clock ticked down to Glee club and she couldn't avoid them any more. She seriously considered ditching the rehearsal but Puck was watching her like a hawk, and there was always a chance Brittany might try and talk to her.

Puck eyed Santana nervously from the front row, he wasn't quite convinced she was going to bail on him for his big performance. She hadn't said she would sing with him in so many words but she had stopped protesting that she wasn't going to sing anything ever and had even cut back on the constant stream of swear words raining down on him.

Once everyone was assembled and Mr Shue gave him the nod, he marched out to the front of the room and went to speak to the musicians as the rest of the club waited with anticipation for the expected fireworks. They were all well aware something was bubbling away and that Santana, Puck, Brittany and to some extent Quinn, were all involved.

Puck gazed up at the back row hopefully and kind of pathetically, holding his arms out in a 'please don't let me be the only one to make a fool of myself' gesture.

Santana closed her eyes against the panicking voice screaming in her head. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. If it wasn't for Puck she might not have made it through the day already. He was so pathetic it would be criminal to let him stand up there alone. Fuck.

She dragged herself to her feet as the music started earning a monster grin from Puck.

"If we're going down, lets go down together in spectacular hellfire," he said in her ear over the guitars. They bumped fists.

"_Whoa, whoa, whoa!"_

Quinn and Brittany exchanged a knowing glance at the opening chords of the song. They had spent many a summer, not quite being forced, but having to listen to Puck and Santana's entire classic rock and metal collection. It had become the soundtrack to some of the best summers they had ever had. They grinned as Puck and Santana took turns about singing each verse and the two girls joined in the chorus, knowing it off by heart. They all sang together as they had done time and time again on the trampoline in Puck's backyard, with the music blasting out of a stereo until the neighbours hadn't been able to tolerate the noise any more and Puck's mom had kicked them all out, only for them to return the next day and do the same thing all over again.

"_I get the same old dreams, same time every night  
_ _Fall to the ground and I wake up._  
_So I get out of bed, put on my shoes, and in my head_ _  
Thoughts fly back to the break-up_.

_These four walls are closing in_  
_Look at the fix you've put me in_

_Since you been gone, since you been gone_  
_I'm outta my head, can't take it  
_ _Could I be wrong, but since you been gone_ _  
You cast the spell, so break it_  
_Ooh - Whoa - Ooh_  
_Since you been gone_

_So in the night I stand beneath the back street light  
_ _I read the words that you sent to me_  
_I can take the afternoon, the night-time comes around too soon  
_ _You can't know what you mean to me_

_Your poison letter, your telegram  
Just goes to show you don't give a damn_  
_  
Since you been gone, since you been gone  
_ _I'm outta my head, can't take it_ _  
Could I be wrong, but since you been gone_  
_You cast the spell, so break it_  
_Ooh - Whoa - Ooh_ _  
Since you been gone_  
_  
If you will come back_ _  
Baby you know_ _  
You'll never do wrong_  
_Huhhhhh_

_Since you been gone, since you been gone_  
_I'm outta my head, can't take it_  
_Could I be wrong, but since you been gone_  
_You cast the spell, so break it_  
_Ooh - Whoa - Ooh_  
_Ever since, you been gone_

_Since you been gone, since you been gone_  
_I'm outta my head, can't take it_  
_Since you been gone, since you been gone."_

They went for it, rocking the floor using the whole space to dance around the band and really get into the song, there was even some semi-head banging but it was kind of hard to do when you're trying to sing at the same time. By the end of the song they were breathing hard and wiping sweat form their foreheads with the effort they had put in. There was an astonished quiet for a moment from the group and then an eruption of cheering, whistles and applause. They exchanged a triumphant hug and then flicked glances to the respective blondes who were cheering loudly having loved the performance. Santana felt a million times better from having gone and sung her heart out to a song she loved with one of her best friends, until the Shue went and shat on it.

"That was awesome you guys!" declared Will. "Definitely one to think about for Regionals. Now, we've got another student who wants to perform. Let's give it up for Artie."

Artie rolled out with Mike and Tina and performed Faith No More's – 'You want it all', making it abundantly clear it was a direct dig at Santana. Santana glowered at him for the entire performance. She could see Brittany's head bobbing along to the catchy tune.

"_Can you feel it, see it, hear it today?  
If you can't, then it doesn't matter anyway  
You will never understand it cuz it happens too fast  
And it feels so good, it's like walking on glass  
It's so cool, it's so hip, it's so right  
It's so groovy, it's outta sight  
You can touch it, smell it, taste it so sweet  
But it makes no difference cuz it knocks you off your feet_

_You want it all but you can't have it_

_It's cryin', bleedin', lying on the floor  
So you lay down on it and you do it some more  
You've got to share it, so you dare it  
Then you bare it then you tear it_

_You want it all but you can't have it  
It's in your face but you can't grab it_

_It's alive, afraid, a lie, a sin  
It's magic, it's tragic, it's a loss, it's a win  
It's dark, it's moist, it's a bitter pain  
It's sad it happened and it's a shame_

_You want it all but you can't have it  
It's in your face but you can't grab it_

_What is it?  
IT'S IT!  
What is it?  
IT'S IT!  
What is it?  
IT'S IT!"_

"She was way more into our song," whispered Puck, loyally. A small triumph.

"They're fighting over you," Quinn whispered into Brittany's ear after the song finished. "Finally."

Brittany just looked uncomfortable about the whole thing.

"He's not going to give her up without a fight." Puck nudged the fuming girl sitting beside him.

Tina, Mercedes and Kurt were slapping Artie on the back, whooping and giving him high fives. Brittany and Quinn had their heads together talking about something. The room fell silent and everyone looked around to see what had caused the sudden change in atmosphere. Santana was walking over to stand in front of Artie's wheelchair. He swallowed nervously maybe this hadn't been the greatest idea he had ever had but he had been mad his girlfriend had run out on him for Santana. He was certain that was the only reason she would have done it, it had to be for her.

Her stone cold stare was so effective he was actually frozen in fear as she towered over him. Puck and Quinn were hovering next to her in case she snapped and actually hit him.

"Stop it, the both of you, you're upsetting Brittany," said Quinn.

"Does this mean there won't be any more sing off's?" asked Kurt having enjoyed all the drama so far.

"Oh gosh, are they going to fight?" squeaked Rachel.

"There will be no fighting!" ordered Will. Everyone ignored him.

Without warning Santana savagely kicked Artie's chair, shoving it backwards and rolling him crashing into the drum kit. She then pushed Puck away and stormed out of the room, diva style-y.

Rachel raised an eyebrow in appreciation. "Not bad."

Brittany sighed in relief that it hadn't been worse and she hadn't caused actual bodily harm and gave a half hearted smile to Artie as he looked over at her nervously.

Will was not happy. They had all been getting along so well this second year together, he knew it couldnt have lasted and had to end at some point but he was a hopeless optimist. The club had finally split in two. Artie had Mike, Tina, Mercedes, Kurt, Sam, Finn and Rachel. Santana's slushy rampage had not done her any favours. Clearly Puck was firmly on Santana's side and so was Quinn even though she didn't make it as obvious as Puck. Brittany was stuck in the middle, although it appeared to the more observant members of glee that she was still sympathetic towards Santana. Kurt and Mercedes exchanged a knowing smirk and cheered on their boy Artie.

Rehearsals broke up quickly after that show and Puck grabbed his bag and ran off down the hall after Brittany and Quinn.

"Phew," said Puck pushing in between the two blondes and putting his arms around their shoulders, walking down the hallway with them. "So Britt, she's finally pulled that stick out of her ass and is gonna fight for you. She might beat Artie to death with that stick but at least it's progress."

Quinn and Puck watched Brittany waiting for a reaction.

"Why can't she just talk to me?" she huffed.

"This is Santana we're talking about. You know she's crap at this sort of stuff, feelings and shit."

"She's not the only one," muttered Quinn.

Puck cast her a glance but she studiously avoided his eyes and continued. "C'mon B. This is so much further than she's every gotten before. She basically declared a bitch fight over you in front of the whole Glee club."

Brittany just carried on walking, a little cloud of unhappiness almost visible over her head.

"And what did you think of our rocking the joint?" Puck asked Quinn, hopefully.

"It was pretty awesome," she admitted.

He grinned happily at her until he realised they were standing at Quinn's car and he still had his arms wrapped around both of them. He quickly let go.

"Puck," said Brittany staring at the footballer tearing his gaze from Quinn.

"Hmmm?"

"Don't let Santana kill Artie."

"I'll try my best, B," he sighed.

"I gotta go, Artie's waiting for me," she waved and ran off to where Artie was waiting to give her a lift home.

"Oh shit," muttered Puck.

"What?" asked Quinn, turning to see Santana in the doorway of the school her eyes fixed on Brittany and Artie.


	4. Chapter 4

_What the heck. I have just been blown away by the reviews to that last chapter. Thanks so much for giving me feedback. Rainbows all round!

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Chapter 4

Santana watched blankly as Artie's Dad's car left the parking lot until it was out of sight. She was oblivious to the others watching her as she turned and walked back into the school and ignored a call behind her.

"Hey!"

Puck and Quinn paused in the doorway watching her with worry evident in their eyes. Santana blindly carried on walking away from them and then in a pique of despair punched a random locker leaving a large dent.

"Hey, that's my locker!" said Quinn.

Despite finally realising her friends were there, Santana's mind rejected it's usual programming, she couldn't think of a sarcastic comment or be bothered to swear at them and tell them exactly where they could shove themselves. She leaned her forehead against the cool metal of the locker and then turned and slid down to the floor. Puck and Quinn went and sat with her finding themselves in the same position they had been in the other night. Santana was sandwiched in between them but was more accurately miles away as she cradled her throbbing hand and stared dejectedly at the ground.

A tumble weed rolling past them would have been appropriate as they sat in the hall in the empty school under a heavy silence.

"We should do this every week," said Puck, determined to lighten the depressing mood.

"What, punch inanimate objects?" asked Quinn.

"Sing classic rock tunes. It's kinda good."

"Shut up," said Santana in dejected monotone, not in the mood for feeling kinda good.

Quinn nudged her gently, the contact expressing so much more than a million inferior words ever could. Santana let out a huge sigh.

"I actually hate his guts. I want to rip his head off. I want to hurt him. I want to batter his smug face into a pulp."

"That is not an option," stated Quinn firmly.

"What's wrong with me?"

"You're emotionally stunted," offered Puck.

"No, she's not," said Quinn leaning over to look at him. "She's just..."

"A sociopathic super bitch with megalomaniac tendencies?" queried Puck.

"You're in denial," said Quinn.

"No, I'm not. I really do want to kill him."

"That would almost be funny if it hadn't been going on for so long. You're in lo... you're jealous."

"You have to stop fighting yourself, turn it around and fight Artie instead. Ouch!" he yelped as Quinn slapped him. "What was that for? All's fair in love and war and all that."

Santana gave frustrated groan and slumped her head on her knees, helpful conversation over.

"Where did that come from?" asked Quinn in amazement, she hadn't realised Puck paid attention in his English literature class or any other class come to think of it.

"It's Shakespeare or something." he frowned, worried he had left himself open to appearing like a nerd. "Where's lemon head?" Puck asked Quinn, letting Santana have a breather to get her shit together.

"His name is Sam, and I don't know where he is, I'm not his keeper."

"That's funny cos I thought I saw you hanging on his every word. Shouldn't you be off watching him groom himself in the mirror or something?"

"Something. He's not my boyfriend."

"Yeah right. Does he know that?"

"It's none of your business what I do, so butt out and shut up!"

"Hear hear," agreed Santana mumbling into her knees. How she wished Puck would butt out as well.

Puck leaned back against the locker with a whump. He was getting mightily fed up with everything going nowhere and all these chick problems he didn't know how to deal with, like Santana descending into a blue funk every time Artie had the misfortune to roll her way. The only way shit was gonna happen was to break Santana out of this shell she had built herself into.

"Do you think he goes over Britt's?" he asked, deliberately provocative.

Santana tensed but didn't react in any other way. Quinn shot him a 'What the hell are you doing?' glare.

"I wonder what they do all evening."

"Shut up Puck!" Hissed Quinn. Clearly he had lost his mind.

He leaned into Santana and spoke in her ear. "I wonder if they're doing it _right now_."

Santana shot up, her honed cheerio lightning fast reflexes catching Puck off guard and she made sure she kicked him as hard as she possibly could before stomping out and leaving them behind.

"You are such a jerk," said Quinn angrily, running after Santana only to see her car screeching out of the school grounds with a dust trail behind her she was going so fast.

"She's gotta stop moping," said Puck, hobbling up beside her rubbing his shin. "If pissing her off is the way to get through then I'm not afraid to do it."

"She's either going to screw this up big time or... I don't know what." Quinn turned on her heel and stared Puck straight in the eye. "No one else is talking to her apart from us."

He shrugged. That wasn't news it was simply how things usually went with Santana, she wasn't renowned for being the friendliest person in the world, that was more Brittany's calling.

"We can sit with her and stop her from committing homicide but she has to admit it to herself before we can help her Quinn." He looked down at the footprint on his jeans and then tried to sound as cool and nonchalant as possible. "Want to go get something to eat?"

"With you?" she asked, eyebrow arched.

"I don't see anyone else here."

They had a kind of stand off, sort of glaring at each other. Quinn angry he had upset Santana and then had the nerve to ask her out like nothing had ever happened between them or precisely because something had happened between them and Puck daring her to reject him after having exposed his feelings.

"No. No thanks. I don't think that's a good idea," she said softly. She caught a glimpse of hurt cross his face for second which he hid the next.

"Whatever, I'm sure Ken will have finished quaffing his hair by now."

"Puck."

"See you tomorrow Fabray." he flicked his hand back over his shoulder in a dismissive wave.

Quinn sighed. Why were all of her friends so messed up, maybe there was something in the Lima water. Her phone beeped interrupting her thoughts. Reading the message quickly she ran after Puck and hammered on the side of his truck until he opened the window.

"Hey, Fabray. You want to ravage me all you have to do is ask," he grinned waggling his eyebrows at her.

"All that progress and then you're right back to square one." His grin faded. "Just shut up. Rachel texted me."

"Why?"

She thrust her phone in front of his nose for him to read the text.

"The fuck can't she text like a normal teenager?" grumbled Puck, squinting at Rachel's idea of texting.

**'Santana has gone mad and is presently demolishing her house. Get Brittany. Get Noah, and get over here now before someone calls the authorities.'**

"I'll get Brittany. Get over there," he jumped into action shoving the phone back at her.

* * *

Quinn arrived at Santana's house to find Rachel and Finn standing in the drive looking nervous. They watched helplessly as objects came flying out of Santana's bedroom window, some smashing on the drive some rolling into the road and some seemingly aimed Rachel's way.

"What's happening?" asked Quinn in confusion.

"I don't know. Finn was driving me home and we nearly got hit by a dumbbell rolling across the road. If Finn hadn't swerved in time there could have been a terrible accident." Rachel paused for a breath but Quinn cut her off.

"OK, thanks Rachel," interrupted Quinn before the other girl could get into the full swing of one of her mini speeches.

"Did you bring Brittany?" asked Rachel, unfazed by the halt to her semi rant.

Quinn shook her head almost apologetically. "Pucks looking for her." It was funny that even Rachel knew the only way to soothe the savage beast was by Brittany alone, it seemed Santana was the only one who didn't know, or maybe she did and that was the whole problem right there. "I think you should go," Quinn said quietly. "Just in case."

"Just in case of what?"

"In case someone gets hurt."

"That's why we should stay," said Finn. He looked worried but was sort of confident that he could handle a crazy girl. Maybe.

"You might need us," said Rachel.

"Puck will be here soon with Brittany."

"Oh." she exchanged a look with Finn. "We'll wait over here until they get here."

Quinn flashed her a grateful look. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm going in. If I don't come out in 10 minutes, call the cops."

Rachel nodded and got out her phone. "I'll put them on speed dial."

Tentatively Quinn stuck her head around the door into Santana's room, tensed and ready to run if anything came flying her way.

"S? What are doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm having a clear out."

"Almost your entire bedroom is on the lawn."

"I don't want it any more." Santana heaved her desk up onto the windowsill the strenuous work helping work out some of her frustration.

"Oh god S, no!" cried Quinn entering the room as she realised what Santana was doing.

The desk overbalanced and tipped out the window. A shriek could be heard from below. It tilted and stopped, wedged against the window frame. Santana shoved it with all her might then let go as it fell out of sight and smashed on the ground.

"Puck's gone to get Brittany," said Quinn, praying that the power of Brittany's name alone would help in some way. It didn't.

"Get the fuck out of my house," Santana snarled at her. "And take the midget with you."

"What the hell are you doing?" Quinn asked desperately.

Santana glared at her. She didn't say it was because she could sense Brittany on everything in that room. She didn't say it was her scent, her stickers, her doodles, every item of clothing she had borrowed or touched. She didn't say it was the chair she had sat on, the bed covers, the bed... the bed was next. She picked up her chair and threw it outside in Rachel's general direction.

"Get off my fucking drive, Berry."

Rachel hurried backwards to stand next to Finn's car as Puck's truck pulled up. Santana paused and watched as she thought Quinn's words over. 'Puck's gone to get Brittany.' Quinn dared to stand next to her having heard the truck pull up. To her dismay only Puck got out of the truck. He was alone.

She backed hurriedly out of the room as the TV went sailing out of the window followed by DVDs. "I fucking hate Disney!" came a shout as Lady and the Tramp nearly sliced Rachel's head off.

"She's not coming," Puck confessed guiltily as Quinn ran over to him with a hopeful look in her eyes.

"What!" she hissed, not believing her ears.

"Artie wouldn't let her."

"Did you did tell her S is flipping out?"

"I didn't want Artie to know. I was subtle, I'm not sure if she picked up on it," he frowned.

"For crying out loud Puck. She's the only one who can stop her."

"She refused, said she's with Artie now and he's supposed to come first."

"That doesn't sound like Brittany, not about Santana." Quinn shook her head. "She came running the other night."

"Do you think he's brainwashing her?"

"For gods sake Puck he's probably guilt tripping her."

"Oh."

"You should have dragged her here!"

"She said no, Quinn. She's not coming."

The front door slammed and they all watched Santana run to her car and drive off. Rachel and Finn stood awkwardly on the pavement unsure what to do now. Quinn and Puck stared dejectedly at the pile of bedroom articles on the lawn.

"I'm getting the feeling she kinda needs Brittany to live," murmured Puck, thoughtfully. Rachel and Quinn rolled their eyes simultaneously. Well, duh.

"C'mon bro," said Finn, slapping a hand on Pucks shoulder. "Lets put this stuff back in the house before her parents get home."

The four teenagers left the room looking as tidy as possible despite the fact the furniture was mostly broken, some of it looked as though it had been deliberately smashed and not just from the fall from the window. Quinn tried her best to remember how Santana's room had looked before the current apocalypse, but it had been over a year since she had last been invited over to Santana's house. They worked mostly in silence only asking for help moving larger objects or asking Quinn where stuff was supposed to go. Even Rachel was quiet for once. Whatever Santana was going through, it was big.

"Is she going to be OK?" Rachel asked quietly.

No one answered her.


	5. Chapter 5

_Deep breaths. OK I'm so not freaking out because I've never had so many reviews before in my life. And puh-lease, come on people, have little faith in Brittany. I love her almost as much as Santana does. Don't worry about her XD Warnings for more violence and swearing I've just noticed how violent this fic is. I blame Santana.

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Chapter 5

The next day there was no sign of Santana in school. A lunch time Glee meeting revealed via Mr Shue that she was off sick and probably wouldn't be in for a few days.

Puck approached Brittany and Quinn as he frowned at his phone. "Hey, is Santana replying to any of your texts? She might not be talking to me cos I kind of pissed her off yesterday, and the day before. And the day before that."

Brittany looked away and didn't answer.

"She's not answering mine either," said Quinn, having the same problem.

They both looked at Brittany.

"What? We haven't really been talking much lately." she shrugged but didn't look very pleased. "She could just be asleep if she's sick."

"I guess." He pressed send, again.

Santana's phone lit up in her bag but was deliberately on silent mode so she didn't keep having to notice the 23 unread texts and 7 missed calls, over half of which were from Brittany.

Santana was off school for three days when the shit finally hit the fan.

Dressed in her Cheerios uniform she put her house key in the front door and opened it stepping inside the house. It was 4:30pm sharp the same time she was usually home after glee practice each day.

"I'm home!" she called, knowing that her mother was home early that day and wherever she was in the house she would know she was back.

"In here," called her mother from the kitchen.

"Hey, what's for dinner?" asked Santana as she strolled calmly into the room, her bag dropped from her hand and she stopped suddenly as she found both her parents waiting in the kitchen for her, with Brittany.

"Sit," ordered her mother.

It took a couple of seconds for the instruction to sink in but eventually she obediently moved over the counter the other three were standing around and perched on the stool at the end of the table. Santana looked nervously at Brittany. What was happening, what had she said? oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. And her father was there. It must be bad if he had been called home from work early because of his daughter's truancy.

"Brittany came over to see if you were OK. What with you not having been in school these past three days." Santana couldn't meet anyone's eyes. "Because supposedly you're in bed, sick."

There was a horrible tight feeling in her chest, she felt sick and licked her lips nervously.

"If you haven't been here and you haven't been in school, where have you been?" asked her father in a tone indicating he was not to be trifled with. "Also, your bedroom door was locked. I opened it," he said ominously.

"I've gotta go," muttered Brittany, looking a cross between worried, guilty and anxious.

Santana cast a desperate glance to her as she picked up her bag and left the room but she avoided eye contact.

"She brought you a 'Get well soon' card." Her mother pushed it across the counter to her.

"Where have you been? And what on earth happened to your bedroom?" demanded her father.

Santana gulped desperately. Conflicting emotions were ganging up on her and all she could focus on was her name on the envelope in Brittany's loopy handwriting complete with complimentary doodling and drawings.

"I went to the park," she whispered. "Stayed out of peoples way."

She fingered the corner of the envelope but didn't move to open it. She couldn't look her parents in the eye.

"Why?" asked her father. The love and care in his voice was the final straw which broke the camels back.

"We had a fight," she managed to gasp out and then to her utter shame and embarrassment started to cry, she put her head in her hands.

"Aww honey," her mother grabbed her in a big hug and walked her sobbing daughter over to the couch where Santana proceeded to cry in her mothers arms for the first time in years.

When her father realised his wife had the problem covered for the moment he went after Brittany and caught her trying to leave. They stood together, unnoticed in the doorway, Dr. Lopez's hand on Brittany's shoulder and they listened as Santana's mother spoke calming, hushing words in the sobbing girls ear. When the crying had died down to a manageable level she spoke quietly to her daughter.

"You know, when you were little you didn't need anyone. I sometimes thought you didn't even need us. You were perfectly content with your own company and never bothered with the other kids. Then one day, when you were five, you came home with the biggest smile on your face. I had never seen you so happy before or happier since. And do you know why that was? It was because that was the day you met Brittany." She held Santana closer. "You were absolutely smitten, from that very day. Ever since then, for the past twelve years, Brittany has been a part of this family."

"I screwed up," Santana gulped and then sniffled.

"Fix it," said her mother as though it were the easiest thing in the world.

"How?"

"What did you do wrong?"

"I lied."

"Fix it."

"How?"

"Tell the truth."

"I can't. I'm an idiot. I can't say it." She clenched her jaw. "I cant physically say it."

"What are you scared of? Us? Me, or your father?" she asked softly and kissed her daughter on the head. "It's just Brittany."

When no reply was forthcoming she reached over and handed Santana the envelope Brittany had left for her. She watched as she opened it in her lap in front of her. It was a hand made card covered in ducks and rainbows and balloons and glitter and hearts. Inside it read 'Get well soon. After a hurricane comes a rainbow. I miss you.' and was surrounded with alternating smiley and sad faces.

Santana burst into tears again. Brittany looked up with blurry eyes as she felt a hand lift off her shoulder. She shook her head as tears began to fall and turned and numbly walking out of the house her mind trying to process everything.

"Whatever this is," Santana's mother asked her. "Is it worth losing her over?"

Santana snuggled into her mothers side as her tears turned to hiccups and her father came and sat on the other side of her. She felt calmer, safer and more secure than she had for a long time knowing she had them at her side.

"And anyway," she added. "We miss her too. It's strange her not being here all the time."

Once the tears had slowed to a trickle her father couldn't help but ask. "So, are you going to explain about the bedroom?"

* * *

The next day Santana returned to school but spent the day alone of her own choice. She was quiet and reserved, ignoring friends, enemies, freaks and gleeks. She blanked Puck and Quinn and if she noticed sky blue eyes watching her from afar she didn't look back. In each class she stared into space and daydreamed through her lessons or scribbled incomprehensible messes on the blank piece of paper in front of her. In Spanish she simply put her head on the desk and stared out of the window. She had Mr Shue for Spanish so he didn't mind too much seeing how she was consistently a straight A student. She skipped Cheerios practice and Glee and left for home early, content to sleepwalk through school until things began to make more sense of their own accord. However, life has a funny way of doing whatever the hell it wants regardless of anyones intentions, as Santana found the following Monday.

At the end of lunch break on the the Monday, Mercedes, Mike, Brittany and Artie exited the cafeteria with Brittany pushing Artie in front of her. Despite his insistence he could wheel himself around she liked to push him because she said it felt like pushing a stroller around, only without the screaming baby and the puking.

A shoving match had begun out in the hallway between a group of football players and one was shoved in their direction and stumbled into Artie knocking the group of Glee kids across the hall. Both Mercedes and Mike called out in annoyance and disgust as Brittany and Artie pushed the lump of an idiot off Artie.

"Why don't you watch where your dumb ass is going?" snapped Mercedes.

Azimio laughed as he pushed himself up from the floor using Artie's wheelchair as leverage.

"Get off," said Brittany shoving him aside.

Suddenly Karofsky was there towering right in front of her. "And what are you going to do about it, bimbo Barbie?" He turned to Azimio and laughed. "Man these glee freaks just ask for it." He turned back and practically spat in Brittany's face "The retard and the cripple. I've never seen anything so pathetic."

She glared at him but didn't back down. "You're the only loser around here, Dave," she said in that quiet voice of hers. "Get out of the way."

He glared at her and she tried to glare back but Brittany's scowl was about as frightening as a kitten in a woolly hat. They stood face to face, inches apart.

"Dude," said Azimio slapping him in the chest.

Karofsky ignored him busy leering at Brittany. "I think I can take the dumb Cheerio, man," he sneered at the girl who dared to stand up to him.

"Dude," Azimio hissed with a bit more urgency.

Karofsky stuck out a finger and pushed Brittany in the chest. "What are you gonna do about it, stupid?"

If he hadn't been buzzing on a slushy sugar high and his natural hatred of anything Glee he might have noticed the deathly silence which had descended upon the watching crowd and the way they all shuffled back a step or two out of harms way.

A small hand grabbed Karofsky's arm and spun him around and to Brittany's horror and also great relief, Santana's fist was introduced to Karofsky's nose. The whole group of students who had gathered to watch flinched at the sound of his nose breaking. There were even some screams as blood splattered across the front row of the crowd. Karofsky collapsed to the floor clutching his nose and screaming like a wounded animal. Santana savagely booted him in the balls and then lunged at him.

Fortunately, probably for everyone concerned, Puck was nearby and managed to grab her by the waist and pull her back as teachers appeared through the sedentary throng of students shocked by the ferocity of the attack.

Santana wriggled out of his grasp actually spitting like a vicious cat and flung herself on top of Karofsky. Azimio had done a runner by this time. Puck slung her over his shoulder and ran out with her.

"Put me down you fucking bastard!" could be heard over the general uproar.

* * *

Last thing that afternoon, all eyes were on the door to the choir room as it opened in the middle of their rehearsal. Barely recognisable out of her Cheerio uniform and with her hair down, Santana stepped inside wearing ripped jeans, a white shirt, knee high snow boots and a black mid length jacket. Her right forearm was in plaster and a sling held her arm across her chest. Judging from the looks of shock on her team mates faces they hadn't been expecting her. The whole group stared at her in awed silence. Then Puck whooped and they all joined in cheering and hollering and clapping. Even Mr Shue was applauding her but all she could see was Brittany smiling at her from the other side of the room.

"How's your arm Santana?" asked Rachel stepping forward. "We all heard about what happened."

"Some of us witnessed it happening," stated Puck proudly slapping his hand on her back and then lifting it off quickly in case he'd hurt her. Or, because he was never quite certain if she'd hit back.

"I'm OK. I just got back from hospital, thought I might as well come here," she said, feeling uneasy with the stares she was getting.

She walked through the assembled singers and made her way over to sit in her usual spot at the back row. Everyone turned and watched her. She rolled her eyes.

"How bad is it?" asked Brittany sitting down next to her.

"Fractured wrist. No Cheerios for six weeks."

"Dude," shouted Puck making everyone jump. "You totally broke Karofsky's nose. He wouldn't stop crying," he grinned.

Santana was beginning to think it had been a bad idea coming back to school just to catch the end of glee club, but then Brittany was sitting really close so maybe it wasn't that bad an idea.

"You all want to get back to whatever it was you were doing before my pain meds wear off?" she declared to the rest of the room.

That made them all shift their attention sharp-ish. They all turned around and back to discussing song choices for the weeks assignment but Brittany continued smiling sweetly at Santana. Artie glared up at them as Brittany got a marker pen out of her bag and leaned comfortably on Santana who immediately surrendered her arm for Brittany to doodle all over her plaster cast.

"You shouldn't have done that," she said quietly as she concentrated on drawing a family of ballads.

Santana shrugged. Whatever. She was a total frickin' superhero and Brittany couldn't stop smiling at her. Fuck you Artie.


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm kind of not sure about ending it like this but seeing how I hadn't planned on continuing it past chapter 1, it's alright =)

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Chapter 6

Santana spent most of the next day in Principal Figgins' office with her father, trying not to get expelled. If she hadn't had been honest with him and her mother the other day she could never have forseen his battling so hard for her as he did with Figgins. They almost didn't get away with it. Assaulting a student, even a football player ten times the size of Santana, was way over the line. But someone squealed, Santana suspected Quinn, and Coach Sylvester marched in and started laying down the law.

Accusations that Dave Karofsky had assaulted a Cheerio had been brought to her attention. The entire student body present at the incident would swear upon oath that they witnessed Karofsky assault Brittany. Doctor Lopez was almost as furious as Santana had been when he found that out.

"He did WHAT!" he yelled, the roar of which could be heard in classrooms all over the school.

Santana eventually made it out of the Principle's office feeling slightly dazed and went to her last class of the day and then on to Glee club.

As soon as she entered the music room there was a hush from the eight students already assembled there. Sure she was bad ass, thought Santana, but this was ridiculous. The only noise detectable, which captured her attention immediately, was a quiet sniffling from the front row. She looked across the room to where Brittany was crying while Quinn had her arm around her shoulder. All her worries and troubles went up in smoke as she sprinted across the room.

"B?"

Brittany looked up at the sound of her voice and when she saw Santana on her knees in front of her looking at her with so much concern and compassion she completely broke down into sobs and flung herself at the other girl wrapping her arms around her neck and crying into her shoulder.

"What's the matter?"

Brittany just whimpered into her shoulder in reply.

"She dumped Artie," Quinn answered for her with a hint of a smile.

A jolt of something ran through Santana and as the girl shook with sobs in her arms she held her tighter. "Okay," she frowned at Quinn. "But if she dumped him, then why is she crying?"

A loud sniff sounded in her ear and Brittany said into her neck. "He said some horrible stuff about you. Stuff about you going over the top with Dave and when Puck came to get me to go over yours, and when you were drunk and throwing stuff and I left him in Breadstix and did you like my card?"

Santana's eyes narrowed in contemplation as she untangled what Brittany had just said and then widened in comprehension. "I loved it," she whispered in her ear. She moved away slightly as she turned to look at Brittany. "I don't care what he says about me, or what anyone says about me. But, unfortunately for him, he broke rule number one."

Brittany nodded in Santana's arms and then sniffed again already knowing the rules. Santana offered up her extra sleeve she wasn't currently using because of her sling and Brittany wiped her eyes with it.

"What's rule number one?" asked Quinn with a morbid curiosity.

"Keep Brittany happy, always."

"Didn't you break that rule?" pointed out Quinn.

"Shut up."

At that moment the unfortunate Artie wheeled into the choir room. Santana's head whipped up and her eyes fixed on him, her brow knitted in a fierce scowl. Artie's eyes widened in horror and he reversed out of the room as fast as he could almost running Rachel over in his hurry. Santana snarled and took a step towards him and he pushed his chair as fast as he had ever gone, breaking the world land speed record as he did so. If he had looked back he would have seen Santana hadn't actually stepped out of Brittany's grasp.

She sat down in the front row with Quinn and Brittany, the three together for the first time in what had been an age. Brittany wrapped herself around Santana's good arm and rested her head on her shoulder. Santana was well aware of the smirk Quinn was trying to hide and decided to do something about it.

"Q, what the hell did you do to my bedroom?"

"What did_ I _do to it?" Quinn gasped indignantly.

"Why was Quinn in your bedroom?" asked Brittany suspiciously.

"That's what I want to know," said Santana. "My Dad seems to think a tornado landed right in the middle of it, the only spot in the whole state, wrecked it and then left again."

"You're welcome by the way," snarked Quinn.

"I have to take Woodshop now to fix it all. He refuses to buy me new furniture unless I tell him what happened."

"Woodshop's cool," murmured Brittany.

"Yeah?" Santana was satisfied with that comment. "Cool. I start in 6 weeks." she said waving her plaster cast in front of them for emphasis.

"These rules you've got," Quinn mused antagonistically, she was still determined to see Santana squirm. "What's rule number two? Sex isn't dating?"

Santana punched her cast into the head Cheerio's thigh and they both winced in pain.

"What did happen to your bedroom?" Asked Brittany, breaking up the fight by running unknowing interference.

"Nothing much, some stuff got broken," muttered Santana.

Quinn rolled her eyes and looked away, rubbing her thigh. Coach was not going to be happy when she saw the eventual bruise. Mr Shue came in and the rehearsal started with the three friends together actually enjoying each others company, although only Brittany would have been the one to admit it out loud.

* * *

"Babe."

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm gonna say," protested Puck having cornered Santana at her locker. He stood and watched as she struggled one handed with books and bags dropping most of her things on the floor.

"No."

"We need to release our inner rock god's," he declared as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Not this again. I've done this already, remember?"

"Let's do it again. We rocked the place last time."

"Last time, one of us assaulted a cripple and then trashed our own house."

"That is totally acceptable rock star behaviour, and a piss poor excuse to stop rockin'."

"Just ask her out already," Santana snapped in frustration as she rammed all her belongings into her locker without any assistance.

"How about _you_ shut up and ask her out already."

"What?"

The word rang out in parallel with the locker door slamming shut, the loud noise making Puck jump. Too soon, too soon, a panicky voice said in his head. Be cool Puckzilla, be cool. "Come on, pleeeease?"

She left his ass-holery stranded in the hallway, ditching him by entering the domain of the Cheerios where no man (except Kurt) was allowed to enter upon punishment of death. She was to begin her Coach induced punishment for putting one of the best and most ruthless Cheerios out of action. Which was totally not fair seeing how Santana was that very same Cheerio. Laundry duty. Which was also not only unfair but incredibly difficult and insanely annoying with only one arm. But, she had stuck her chin out and accepted the punishment in Figgins' office along with all the others which seemed to avalanche down upon her. She couldn't really complain, well she could but no one would listen because laundry duty was clearly one of many self inflicted punishments.

She had spent Cheerios practice watching the girls from the bleachers, okay, watching _a_ girl from the bleachers, and making up a list of the pros and cons of flattening Karofsky's nose.

**Cons**

Detention for the rest of the school year.

Cheerio dry cleaning until her hand was healed.

Woodshop when her arm was finally healed.

Car confiscated.

**Pros**

Brittany. Brittany. Brittany. Brittany. Brittany. Brittany. Brittany. Brittany. Brittany. Brittany.

* * *

By the end of the week, life was looking decidedly brighter than it had for months. She was back to normal with Brittany, Britt had dumped the loser, and Santana was almost sort of friends with Quinn again. There was only one more friendship to fix.

Santana caught Puck staring morosely into his locker. She didn't know why he bothered with a locker there was nothing in there but stinking socks and books she was sure had never been opened. He looked up and caught her half smiling at him from the end of the hall. He grinned back his nose wrinkling up cutely. Her change of heart could have something to do with his patheticness. It could also have something to do with his advice. It could also have something to do with Spanish class.

* * *

On her way back from Spanish class after lunch Santana had come across Quinn and Brittany standing at Quinn's locker. Brittany smiled at her.

"Hi," gulped Santana and then prayed that gulp hadn't been observed.

"Hi," grinned Brittany, running a finger over Quinn's battered locker door. "Hey Q, what happened to your locker?" she asked curiously.

"Um, some idiot punched it," said Quinn, thinking fast on her feet.

"Why?"

"I think... they had a freak out then did something incredibly stupid and got themselves dumped and then got in a heartbroken rage and turned into a complete mess and then realised it was all their fault eventually fuelling their feelings into doing something constructive about it and then..."

"Huh hmm," Santana cleared her throat loudly.

Quinn shrugged. "But really Britt, who knows? Some people are just strange like that."

Brittany stared with her mouth open in a confused 'Oh' expression. Quinn could feel Santana's glare burning into the back of her head so she turned back to her books and pretended she wasn't there finding something immensely interesting at the back of her locker.

"So..." began Santana.

"So," parroted Brittany, glad of the distraction from Quinn's weird rambling.

"So, I was wondering if you needed any help with your Spanish homework?"

Both girls jumped in fright as the door to Quinn's locker slammed shut with so much force it buckled further than when Santana had punched it and wouldn't close properly ever again. Santana glared at Quinn for interrupting her dazzling chat up line and then swallowed nervously, getting the message. She took a deep breath.

"What I meant to say by that was..."

Brittany put a finger to Santana's lips silencing her. "I know what you meant to say. Sure." Santana gave her a goofy grin. "Shall I come over tonight?"

"I don't actually have any functioning furniture. Can we go to yours?"

"Cool, and I kinda need help with my English homework and History, and Math and..."

"Okay, we'll go over it all. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

Quinn rolled her eyes in amused disgust, she didn't want to know what that meant. At least they made up for it by being sickeningly adorable.

* * *

"I'll do it," said Santana leaning against the lockers next to Puck.

"Huh?"

"I'll sing your stupid song. So long as it the most god damn brilliant rock anthem ever in the history of the world ever."

"Well all right then." he said simply, his face nearly splitting with a happy smile. He would have hugged her but it was Santana and she might not have taken it well and it could have resulted in violence. "Did you hear about Karofsky?"

"What about him?"

"He is shunned. He's off the football team, has a two week suspension and then detention for the rest of the year. No one lays a finger on Britts and gets away with it."

"I know they don't," said Santana, inspecting a perfectly manicured fingernail as though the news was like water off a ducks back. She had been mildly interested in what would happen when she saw Karofsky again. At least she ahd a two week breather and could worry about it later.

"I did ask her out, she said no."

Santana had plenty of practise from most of her life spent with Brittany at dealing with conversations going off on wild tangents and flipping 360's, so she managed to keep up with his thought process.

"Oh." She watched him shuffle his feet clearly feeling awkward and embarrassed. "Sorry. How exactly did she say no?"

"N-O."

"Ha har. So that's why you want to sing again. That's cool, we'll blow them all away."

Puck grinned. "Thanks. I'm glad you and Britt are okay again."

Santana punched him in the arm unable to hide a smile. "What song were you thinking of?"

* * *

Quinn and Brittany watched them from the far end of the hall.

"It''s been interesting letting those two try and figure out what they're supposed to be doing but I cant help but think all this drama would have been over so much longer ago if we had helped them out. Let's give them a little bit of a helping hand. 'K?"

"OK," Brittany agreed easily.

* * *

Puck and Santana were sitting together psyching themselves up for another performance. They both looked a bit green around the edges at the thought of singing their hearts out again. It might be worth it but it was still embarrassing. The two blonde girls came in and took a look at them, exchanged a knowing smile and sat down together in the front row.

When everyone was there, Puck plucked up his courage and stood up looking back at a reluctant Santana. She didn't have a chance to stand as to their surprise Quinn and Brittany came over and pushed Puck off the floor and back into his seat.

"Our turn," said Quinn with a smirk.

"Sorry guys," said Mr Shue. "Quinn and Brittany have something for us and they insisted on going first."

This was unexpected thought Puck. After their song he was antcipating a slap perhaps, it wasn't off the scale of probability or a dramatic storming out but they had pre-prepared a song in return for the last one and made a pre-emptive strike. Uh oh.

He sat back down next to Santana as the opening chords of Brittany and Quinn's chosen song reverberated around the room. Puck and Santana exchanged an infectious grin as they recognised the music and the two girls began to rock the room right in front of them, performing the sexiest version of Def Leppard's 'Pour Some Sugar On Me' ever seen in the history of the entire world. Puck and Santana's jaws hit the ground simultaneously as the two girls began to dance in front of them, the sexiest, hottest grinding dance. Pucks brain almost overloaded from the sight.

**_'Step inside, walk this way_**  
**_You and me babe, Hey, hey!_**

**_Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on_**  
**_Livin' like a lover with a radar phone_**  
**_Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp_**  
**_Demolition woman, can I be your man?_**  
**_Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light_**  
**_Television lover, baby, go all night_**  
**_Sometime, any time, sugar me sweet_**  
**_Little miss ah innocent sugar me, yeah.'_**

As the rock anthem filled the room and everyone fell a little bit in love with Quinn and Brittany, the whole group eventually gathered their wits about them and got up and joined in rocking around the room and dancing with the girls. Eventually the two idiots got their brains to function for a short enough time as to get up and join their friends. Britttany grabbed hold of Santana instantly and they danced together.

_**'Hey!**_  
_**C'mon, take a bottle, shake it up**_  
_**Break the bubble, break it up**_

_**Pour some sugar on me**_  
_**Ooh, in the name of love**_  
_**Pour some sugar on me**_  
_**C'mon fire me up**_  
_**Pour your sugar on me**_  
_**Oh, I can't get enough**_  
_**I'm hot, sticky sweet**_  
_**From my head to my feet yeah**_

_**Listen! red light, yellow light, green-a-light go!**_  
_**Crazy little woman in a one man show**_  
_**Mirror queen, mannequin, rhythm of love**_  
_**Sweet dream, saccharine, loosen up**_

_**You gotta squeeze a little, squeeze a little**_  
_**Tease a little more**_  
_**Easy operator come a knockin' on my door**_  
_**Sometime, any time, sugar me sweet**_  
_**Little miss innocent sugar me, yeah**_

_**Take a bottle, shake it up**_  
_**Break the bubble, break it up**_

_**Pour some sugar on me**_  
_**Ooh, in the name of love**_  
_**Pour some sugar on me**_  
_**C'mon fire me up**_  
_**Pour your sugar on me**_  
_**Oh, I can't get enough**_  
_**I'm hot, sticky sweet**_  
_**From my head to my feet yeah**_

_**You got the peaches, I got the cream**_  
_**Sweet to taste, saccharine**_  
_**'Cos I'm hot, say what, sticky sweet**_  
_**From my head, my head, to my feet**_

_**Do you take sugar? one lump or two?**_

_**Take a bottle, shake it up**_  
_**Break the bubble, break it up**_

_**Pour some sugar on me**_  
_**Ooh, in the name of love**_  
_**Pour some sugar on me**_  
_**C'mon fire me up**_  
_**Pour your sugar on me**_  
_**Oh, I can't get enough**_  
_**Pour some sugar on me**_  
_**Oh, in the name of love**_  
_**Pour some sugar on me**_  
_**Get it, come get it**_  
_**Pour your sugar on me**_  
_**Ooh**_  
_**Pour some sugar on me**_  
_**Yeah! Sugar me!"**_

As the music ended, everyone was cheering having had the best time doing what they loved best and releasing their inner rock gods. They all congratulated each other on such an awesome number. Brittany jumped into Santana's arms and wrapped her legs around the other girls waist. She grinned down at her the grin equally reflected and rested her forehead against Santana's. "I'm going to kiss you now."

Santana said nothing but her eyes widened.

"In front of everyone."

Santana swallowed nervously.

"Is that OK?"

Staring into those blue eyes she couldn't find any part of her that wanted to say no. She found herself smiling as Brittany's lips got closer and closer. In the midst of the rockfest no one even noticed the earth shattering, life changing, mind blowing most sweetest kiss Santana had ever known.

* * *

As the group disbanded and went their separate ways for the evening Puck watched open mouthed with disbelief as the two girls walked with their pinky's entwined down the hall away from him.

"That's it!" He squeaked, to no one in particular.

Quinn peered over his shoulder and watched them walk away together.

"That's it!" He repeated.

"What were you expecting? Them to rip their clothes off and go at it on the piano in front of everyone? They're back together, balance to the universe has been restored."

His head whipped around to face her and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Was that a Star Wars reference?"

"No."

"One day your secret will come out, that you're a Star Wars geek."

"I am not," she protested. "And anyway, you promised you would never tell."

He smiled and his nose wrinkled. "So," he said, nervously. "That was... smoking hot."

Quinn wiggled an eyebrow and smiled. "So," she echoed and looked him straight in the eye. "It means something that I meant, mean something to you. It's important to me. Thanks for telling me."

"S'ok," he said softly, his cheeks turning a interesting shade of pink.

"What you did for Santana was pretty amazing."

"I didn't do it just for her."

"I know, but all the same she's lucky to have a friend like you."

"And one like you."

"You know, if you keep up all this being kind of honest and very cool to your friends, I won't know what to think," said Quinn. To her absolute delight Noah Puckerman blushed. She gave him a sweet smile and walked off.

* * *

Santana and Brittany didn't put an announcement in the newspaper or tweet it to the world. But if you took the time to look, as Quinn certainly did and Glee club were aware of, you would have noticed that they stopped hooking up with other boys/girls, spent every song and dance together, went to parties together and left together and lived happily ever after. Well duh.

* * *

_A/N And yes. I truly believe all the worlds problems can be cured by classic rock. Amen._


End file.
